


heaven sent

by judda



Category: One Piece
Genre: Facial, Lawyers, M/M, Religious Imagery & Symbolism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-08-25 00:38:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16650967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/judda/pseuds/judda
Summary: in which Kid and Law bricker, make out and ignore the perpetual change of their relationship. being a lawyer is as lawless as they come





	heaven sent

Neither can remember how the conversation started really. Kid remembers the seething he felt for Law’s derisive aloofness considering the topic.

Standing in front of him again, Kid reminds Law of a marble statue, the perpetual loathing expression perfectly befitting. As unperfect the scarred face had become. Law's caressing hands only glide over Kid's face, unable to iron out the creases and bumps. He lets Kid take a sip of the liquor before putting the rim back between his own lips.

“Y’know, Trafalgar, the people around you ain't magically immune to your self-loathing.”

Law raises a brow, the glass almost emptied. Has he been projecting? No way! He throws the glass over his shoulder when it’s emptied. Kid deliberately ignores the dripping on his office floor and the thud on the expensive carpet that follow, in favour of keeping his eyes on what's in front of him. “Sweet, naïve Kid,” Law's dark voice sings as he runs his fingers through crimson hair. “I'm just being realistic.”

Again, Law's wrist are caught, but the captive makes no attempt to break free. On the contrary; his bones turn heavy and his muscles lax as he watches Kid spit words waspishly at him, “a damn cynic is what you fucking are.”

“And you're callow” Law argues, his nose wrinkling in the process. Despite everything, he edges closer to the younger man. Closer till their upper bodies are lined up perfectly, trapping the radiant heat coming of them. “Naïve, little Kid,” Law hushes almost endearingly as he mouths on Kid's neck, his own warm breath smelling of alcohol hitting his face. It makes him dizzy, all right. Unable to stand properly, he places his weight on Kid’s lap as he nuzzles his way into the musky scent of the other. Only is his vertigo interrupted by the voice beneath him, vibrating their bodies mildly.

“Is it so hard to imagine this becoming more than sex?”

Law almost throws his head back and laughs out loud. “You always manage to surprise me with you blunt absurdity, Eustass.” Law feels himself become bristled despite the amusement and isn't sure if Kid's cold, prosthetic hand caressing his thigh is appreciated or not.

“Fuck you.”

“So do,” Law encourages as he presses himself against Kid's hardness. “You're a better lay than conversationalist.” Kid grunts and digs his fingers into Law’s cladded flesh.

“You're a damn bully, Trafalgar, you know that?”

With fervour Law strikes down at Kid's lips, making teeth crash in an attempt to find their pace. The fervent noises and torrid breathing fill the room obscenely and Law shortly wonders about the what-if case of an coworker catching them in the act. Law's fingers wander over Kid's body, drawing out deep seethed shudders. As if a mind of their own they find the buttons of Kid's dressshit and beginn buttoning it down, exposing alabasta skin underneath black fabric.

“I seem to be a lot of things.” Then with a heavy tart tone, “to you, that is.”

Law yelps in surprise as he has his dress shirt ripped open by burly fingers, sending his buttons off with a prompt motion. The clattering against glass and wood rings loud in the moment of indignant silence on Law's behalf. Kid has the nerve to smile as his eyes wander over dark skin and darker ink on Law's heaving chest, the thin chain around his neck and the coin of mary's figure shimmering fluorescently.

“You little-” with matching ferocity Law rips open the rest of Kid's shirt, exposing the large scars running over his chest like lightning, gushing open the otherwise perfect skin.

“This was one of my favourite shirts, you bastard.”

“Let me buy you another one.”

“Pass. I don't want any gifts from you.” The message is clear and despite trying to brush it off, it does cause the shadows on Kid's face to darken.

Kid permits him to stare till he begins feeling like a rat in a cage enough. By pressing a single finger deeply into Law's inner thigh, Kid makes him jolt and choke down a stunned noise. Then a gummy grin followed by a hot mouth rejoicing with Kid's own in a wanton kiss.

“I still want you on your knees,” Kid clarifies as he breaks of the kiss.

Kissing down Kid's chest, Law wordlessly does go down on his knees. Being deprived of the bodily heat doesn't seem so bad compared to the plump lips stretching around his dick, Kid thinks. Kid's stomach twist and turns as Law nuzzles his nose into copper curls and it doesn't take a lot of work for Kid to be tip toeing on the edge.

Barely resisting the urge to stay deeply embedded in the liquid heat of Law's mouth, Kid pushes out and all it takes to send him off the edge are Law's finger tightening around his base.

With a deep tremble Kid shots his load all over Law's face, soiling it with opaque white marks. When Law finally opens his eyes there's come sticking on his eyelashes as if have weeped. He looks prettier than any face of Kid's lovemap.

Kid grips Law's jaw with strong fingers, forcing the other to come back to earth. With blown eyes, Kid musters Law's face, flushed cheeks and mouth wet with their fluids.

“Would you look at this,” Kid groans. “A damn angel I‘d say.”

Law shakes his face free of Kid’s grip and mutely places his head on a strong thigh in response. Only now does Kid take note of the mess Law made of himself and the floor, white spots tainting warm brown skin, black ink and hardwood floor.

“Am I really?” Law slurs, his eyes hazily and questionably looking up at Kid's.

With consideration, Kid runs his finger through dark locks. Uriel comes to Kid's mind as he thinks of Law pitilessly taking down the other side in front of the court, almost completely stripped off his virtue. Whatever, Kid's understanding of religion was rather distorted and confused.

“Does it matter?” he questions instead.

Law huffs before he creeps up Kid's body. Owlishly Law’s eyes stare at Kid's as they’re once again face to face, body against body. Kid places his hand on Law's hip, his finger drawing circles on his hip bone.

“Does any of this matter?” Kid doesn't catch the drift at all, Law's mind moving on different planes. The distraught lines and shadows of Law's expression in the face of his clients paraphilic crimes come to Kid's mind instead as he looks up at Law’s aflame face.

Effortlessly, Law forges his way into Kid's mouth, drawing out a confined groan Kid didn't know he was holding. With ecstasy rushing him he strips Law off the ruined shirt, finally able to run his hands over the seraphim skin, hot to the touch.

On the next day, Law walks past Kid's office, the glass displaying three figures. Kid’s large body leaning into the same leather chair and two clients with glassy eyes and wet mouths. It's like naught happened in there, last night. The pang of irritation Law feels is so absurd he almost scoffs at himself.

Waiting for his coffee to brew he subliminally touches over his eyelashes, the heaviness lingering like a phantom pain. Law begins to sweat underneath his collar, his body heat becoming unbearable. Work takes his mind off, a book takes up his freetime and sleepless nights.

On sunday, his bell rings and there stands a dumb man with a dumber smile on his threshold. The night is cold and misty, Law buries himself in his night robe.

“I told you I don't want any gifts, you moron.”

In a swift, tempered motion Law throws the door shut. Kid’s laugh from the other side is muffled and gingerly. “It’s- It ain't a gift, alright? Let's say I’m paying my debts to you, evening out imbalance and what not, yeah? C'mon, angel.”

Law bumps his forehead against the wooden door, his knuckles turning white on the knob. He swings the door open and fixes Kid's stubborn face with a frown. 

“By your logic, I owe you, too.”

Pleased, Kid buries his free hand in the pocket of his slacks, the other swinging a glossy bag. “Guess you do.” Maybe Kid is more clever than Law gave him credit for.

Going against his bone deep wariness, Law takes the bag, the thank you muttered barely audible. He's never been good with accepting gifts. Nor giving out thanks, for that matter.

“This doesn't change a thing,” He informs Kid with a grave expression.

“Yeah,” Kid agrees with a dry throat. “Ain't change a damn thing.” The warmth huffed out of his nostrils turns white in the cold air.

There's no point in trying to figure anything out by starring the other down, so Kid turns to leave. “Good night, Trafalgar.”

He's reached the last step when Law calls out, “Don't step on my petunias.”

There was something reassuring about the Trafalgar from law school still being the same ill-mannered man in his mid-40s.

With a bemused scoff, Kid steadily watches Law bristle beneath the thin fabric of his jumpers and robe. Maybe he's just freezing his ass off. “Are you gonna fill a lawsuit over it?”

“Lawsuits is work, I handle personal issues differently.”

Kid's torn between howling like a dog, rolling his eyes and feigning a shudder. He chooses the latter. “Ever the scary reckoning.”

“Hey,” Law tries again, indignation coloring his voice and rigid shoulders.

“I won't do you wrong. I might do a whole lotta fuck shit but hurting anybody close to me has never been part of it. And if I ever cross you,” he holds out his arms, demonstrating his willingness as he closes his eyes, sighing exasperatedly. “Rain whatever hell or heaven down upon me.”

Law's grip around the bag and his expression tighten as he watches Kid's back melt into the darkening sky, the parting words coming from nobody in particular, “see you tomorrow, boogeyman.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading
> 
> @au_idea_bot @twitter  
> lawyer au


End file.
